Distorted House
by IsYourH3artTaken
Summary: It all started with my brother getting one bad fever, then everything just sort of...fell apart. He was never home anymore and my parents didn't seem to care about what was going on right in front of their eyes. There was no one to confide in. And to top it off, there was this certain badly tempered sixteen year old boy that wouldn't leave me alone. Paul/OC. R
1. Graffiti Decorations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, just my OC and her family.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Graffiti Decorations**

* * *

_Featured Song: "Reaching Forward" by Those Dancing Days _

**/**

It was two weeks before Spring break.

You know what that means. All day parties, no homework weekdays and undisciplined sleep schedules. Working for extra credit? Screw that noise. This was the twenty first century, not an episode of the Brady Bunch. Prime adolescent behavior was not to be expected during this period of time. So my family decided to kick it off with something that everyone hated and caused way more stress that it was worth.

And no, I'm not talking about divorce.

It was the big _move._ We were relocating to a new house. Fantastic.

Apparently my dad bagged a better position as the head mechanic at the local La Push car dealership. I guess all the years spent tinkering with his "priceless" Chevy finally paid off. And it only took around fifteen or twenty years. Who would've thought? And they say opportunities only knock once.

He did good since he managed to drive us all the way from Sequin to La Push without breaking down once. I thought that was deserving of at least some kind of medal. If only he brought a straight jacket to pin my brother in.

"Luke!" I wailed when he snatched away my mini bag of chips and shoved a handful in his mouth. Salt flecked the corners of his lips. "C'mon, give it back."

He grinned through his chewing. "Nope. Sorry, little sis. Sharing is caring."

I tried reaching for the bag, but he quickly flashed his arm out the open window, thick fingers threatening to let my delicious treat drop.

"One more word and it's gone," he said.

I glared sourly at him then turned to mom in the passenger seat. She was busy fiddling with map quest on her phone. "Mom," I whined, gaining her attention. "Luke's being a douche again."

She frowned at me through the little mirror at the top of the windshield. "Mariana, don't call your brother that."

"But he's holding my chips hostage."

She sighed and rummaged through her purse. "Luke, give your sister back her chips. Stop being a barbarian." Her voice modulated to that 'Don't even talk back or I'll kick your ass into the next century' tone. That worked every time. How did you think I lost the battle of me switching to homeschooling?

Sleeping in an hour late and ridding myself of fatal school lunches just wasn't in the stars.

"Fine," Luke grumbled and shove the bag in my face. I happily took in back and smiled spitefully at him. That'd teach him to less with me. Justice tasted sweet.

I popped a chip in my mouth and chewed slowly, looking out the window as we crossed the border into La Push. The scenery was much more different than what I was a keen to in Sequim. Back there was just miles and miles of Lavender fields. While they were beautiful at first, it was kinda straining on the eyes. I was literally beginning to see random bursts of lavender everywhere I went.

But La Push was amazing in ways that Sequim lacked. You could walk around the block and not immediately be in the center of town. The beach was bigger, cleaner, and even smelled a little better. The ocean scent was stronger, more overwhelming in the best way possible. I was sort of happy to be moving there, as delusional as it sounded.

The worst would be making new friends and fighting with my brother over the best room. Since I was the only girl, it was sensible for me to get one with the biggest closet space. For my girlie things, of course. What judge wouldn't rule in my favor?

The making friends bit probably would go easier than I initially thought. Luke was best friends with our first cousin, Embry Call, who ran with a second rate version of the T-Birds. You know what I mean. Poorly dressed miscreants that committed mild acts of mayhem and refused to partake in the community's pro-recycling campaign.

I had met a few in the past, but not all of them. Jared and Quil were the only names I could put a face to. Oh, and there was Leah. But I preferred to pretend as if she didn't exist. She tried out sassying me once and let's just say it didn't turn out good for either of us. Our parents were very angry that night. But hell, was it satisfying.

We pulled into the driveway of our new house after a half hour of cruising through the streets. It was smaller than our old one, but was a two story build.

_Home sweet home._

"We're here!" Mom announced cheerily, unbuckling her seatbelt.

I got out of the car and stared up at the roof, arms loosely crossed. "Yippy," I muttered under my breath and it didn't go unheard.

Dad smiled and smoothed a hand down my hair. "Cheer up, sport. You'll like it here. I promise," he told me.

I smiled, though it was anything but real.

"She always complains," Luke piped in from the trunk of the car. A box filled with his stuff was supported in his arms.

"Shut it!" I snapped at him when he passed by. He just grinned and waited as our parents unlocked the front door.

Dad stepped in, flicked on the kitchen light and surveyed the surroundings. "Not bad," he commented.

Mom scratched at a spot at the faded white cupboards with her fingernail. "Needs a little paint, though."

It was a nice house, I had to admit. There really wasn't much to complain about.

Luke's voice echoed from the staircase. "I get this room."

Except that.

I panicked and raced up there. "Wait! I didn't get to see both of them yet. You can't claim on without me seeing either."

"I just did," Luke answered coolly and placed his box on the floor.

I glowered at him. "That's not fair."

He chuckled. "Sure it is. I'm older than you."

"That's not an excuse."

"Yeah, it is."

"Since when?"

"Since I said it. Now get out of my room." He gently took my arms and hauled me into the hallway, me kicking and screaming the entire time.

"Hey! Stop! Ugh, Luke! No, quit it-"

Mom's footsteps pounded up the stairs. "What's going on?" She stopped short when she saw me partially suspended in the air. "Luke, what did I tell you about rough housing with your sister?"

Luke set me down and ducked his head low. "Don't do it," he mumbled.

Mom nodded. "That's right. And as for you, Mariana. Stop harping on him. I'm sure the other room is just as nice."

Famous last words.

But nevertheless, I nodded. "Sorry, mom."

She shook her head at us, sighing, then treaded back down stairs to continue unpacking. I gave Luke one last glare before following her to the car to retrieve my own box of belongings. First things first; clothes. I hoped mom remembered to bring the hangers.

It took a lot of leg strength to carry all my things from the car to my newly designated room, but I did it, with a sweating brow and knobby knees. After everything had been brought in, I flipped the light switch and gazed at the four blank walls. They definitely needed a girl's touch. Thankfully, I came prepared with plenty of ammunition.

I started with the dressers and coordinated my clothes from ones I wore everyday to the ones I put on for bed. When that was done, I laid out my favorite sheets, pillows, and comforter on my bed. The mattress was freshly bought so I didn't have to worry about any unsightly holes or rips. It was a fairly quick task so afterwards, I was able to hang up some pictures and posters, taking extra time as I handled my prized frame of the greatest band in the world, Nirvana.

I ran my thumb across the portrait of Kurt. He was so beautiful. If only I was born in his generation.

I guess I took longer than I thought because my mom tapped on the door jam then, leaning around the curve.

I turned away from my handiwork. "Oh, hi, mom."

"I didn't mean to bother you, hon. I just wanted to let you know that dinner is on it's way."

"What are we having?"

"Pizza."

_Score._

Pizza was my reason for getting up at six o'clock every morning, the reason blood ran hot in my veins and pumped to my fragile heart lodged deep in my chest cavity. It made me see the light of day even when there was rain, lightening or thunder. It made my bones absorb more nutrients and my brain concentrate better during math class.

In other words, pizza was my favorite food. I grinned. "Cool. I'll be down in a bit."

She smiled at me then returned to the kitchen. With a yawn, I looked at my remaining box of stuff. There was a few more decorations I needed to put up, but some of those required a hammer and several nails. Two things I never onced used. I'd probably end up lopping a finger off.

"How's it goin'?" A voiced chimed from behind me. It was Luke. I didn't even hear him come in. "Hey, it looks great," he noted, glancing around with his arms crossed. "You did good, little sis."

I smiled tightly at him. "Thanks. You know, it would've looked better on wider walls."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I would give in and trade you, but I already applied the spray paint to my room so..." He trailed off, shrugging nonchalantly.

I raised my eyebrows. So that's what that foul odor was. I was afraid something dead might've been under the house.

"You actually went through with that?" I asked.

"Damn right," Luke confirmed. "I'm a man of my word, little sis."

"You're a douche, that's what you are," I shot back. He rolled his eyes.

Spraying his bedroom walls was sort of a tradition for him. He was a natural graffiti expert. Every time we'd move somewhere new, he'd buy an unopened can, usually in a bright neon color, then go absolutely rampant. The smell was worse than month old Chinese take out. It'd probably take me a week to wash the scent out of my hair.

Luke leaned down and picked up my empty boxes after a moment. "I'll take these out for you," he told me.

I blinked slowly. "Oh. Thanks, Luke."

He nodded and piled them all into his arms, then strode down stairs to our trash bin. Dad came back from the pizza parlor a few minutes after. There wasn't one we could go to in La Push, so he had to zip to Sequim real quick then back again. We weren't too far, so thankfully my tummy wasn't deprived for long.

"Dinner's here!"

My face lit up like a fourth of July firework. "Sweet!" I exclaimed and nearly burned a strip as I raced to the kitchen.

0000

After indulging myself in three slices and a couple of breadsticks that would surely threaten my current jean size, I retired to the living room to watch tv with Dad. Some boring newscast was playing. Luke had miraculously finished before me even though he'd wolfed down a total of six slices and half a carton of breadsticks. I guess it helped that he chewed quicker than The Flash.

He smiled at me when I curled onto the sofa beside him. "Done with your feast, porky?"

I smacked his arm. "Speak for yourself, dummy. You ate enough to feed an entire third world country."

"What can I say? I'm a growing boy," he bragged and folded his hands behind his head.

I rolled my eyes then turned back to the tv. An anchorman was reporting about a recent wolf sighting. A wolf? Here in La Push? Psh, yeah right. And I rode a unicorn the other day. As the reporter droned on and on, I nestled my head on the armrest and drifted in and out of sleep, awaking when Luke's voice boomed from the front door. Car keys jingled in his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, mom. I know. Be home before midnight."

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I'm just letting you know."

I sat up from my awkward contortionist-like position and stretched my arms above my head. A blanket was pulled over my body and dropped low to my lap when I leaned forward. Dad probably wrapped me up in it when I fell asleep.

"You leavin?" I asked Luke.

He nodded, swinging the key ring on his forefinger. "Yup. Embry called and invited me to a bonfire he's throwing. Wanna come?"

I flew a hand to my chest, faking shock. "Are you really asking me to come hang out with you? I wouldn't want to cramp your style with Jessie and the Rippers."

Luke sneered at me. "Don't be a smartass. Do you want to come or not?"

I jumped up without even thinking about it. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." I said and skipped up to his side.

Mom looked at us with twice the steel. "Luke, since you'll be driving with your sister, I want you to be twice as careful. You hear me? Come back in one piece."

Luke fretted. "What's the worst that could happen? I'll hit a squirrel?"

"You would," I muttered, and he glared at me. I smiled widely in return. "Actually, we could smash into a tree, lose a tire-" I started listing horrible scenarios at the top of my head, but was cut off by Luke's hand clapping over my mouth.

"Don't give her any ideas!" He hissed, then dragged me outside to the car. I tried voicing my protests but the words were muffled by his sweaty palm. It reeked of melted cheese and sausage. Gross.

I waved bye to Mom from the driveway then got inside the passenger's seat when Luke cranked the engine. He carefully steered out into the road and drove toward First Beach. I clicked in my seatbelt in case that squirrel or tree we mentioned earlier decided to pop up. The windows were rolled down, allowing cool evening air to whip against my face.

My hair blew crazily around me, knotting around my neck and blurring my vision so much that I grew frustrated with trying to untangle myself from their snares. Luckily, I had an elastic band in my jean short pocket and was able to tie it all back into a clean braid. I usually wore my hair down and smooth, but this was a good way to keep fly aways in check.

I leaned back into the seat when my hair was swept up and reached for the radio to kill the unnecessary silence. "Work, damn it," I scolded the metal thing when it refused to turn, if when I tweaked the knobs from left to right.

"It's broken, remember?" Luke reminded me. "Dad didn't fix it yet."

My shoulders slouched and I mentally kicked myself in the ass for not bringing my mp3 player. I had up to three hundred songs stored on that bad boy.

Luke laughed at my expression. "Stop moping. We're almost there anyways," he said and took a left hand turn. I could already see the outline of sand and silhouettes of tall bodies in the distance.

A fire was pitched together and shined dimly like a lighthouse. Luke found a slot to park in then cut the engine.

"You better not desert me for your buddies," I told him, opening the passenger door.

He gave me a funny look. "You're not a baby, Mar. I don't have to babysit you."

"You do if things get ugly with Leah again. And that happened right after you went off with Embry and Jared."

Luke held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, chick problems is none of my business. You got a beef with her, then it's your deal."

Well, wasn't I blessed with the greatest big brother. He truly was a manna from the gods. Eric Matthews, eat your heart out. I sighed and stepped out of the car, following Luke as walked briskly to his crew. I caught up with his pace and matched his stride with ease. A lot of people had told us we had the mannerisms of twins. Our eyes were the same, even hair and skin color though he was a shade or two darker than me.

Apparently we walked the same way, too. I guess it was in the genes. Facially, I took after my mom. She was almost an exact replica of my Aunt Tiffany, her sister. It had been a while since I'd seen her and thinking about her made me all the more excited to see Embry again.

As a matter of fact, I saw him coming toward us right then. Luke grinned and went forward to meet him, sloshing through the sand. I could almost feel his tiny boy heart fill with manly love. A bromance was not something to be reckoned with. He bumped fists with Embry, who then turned and smiled at me.

"Look who's grown, squirt," he teased and wrapped his lean arms around me in a tight bear hug. I giggled when he playfully spun me around.

"Well, look who's talking," I mimicked after he set me down. "You're huge. How tall are you now? 5'11?"

"Six two."

My jaw dropped. "Holy god." He chuckled at my expression and Jared came up after a second, freezing when he saw me at Luke's right.

His eyes widened the tiniest bit. "Mariana?"

I smiled. "Hey, Jared."

He whistled sharply. "Puberty's treated you well, Mar," he said, ignoring the heatful glare Luke was sending his way.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth before you trip on it," Luke remarked.

Embry shared his disdain. "C'mon, man. That's my cousin."

Jared shrugged. "Sorry, just sayin'."

I decided to ease the tension. "Wish I can say the same for you, Jay," I told him and stifled a laugh when his beaming smile crumbled. "Relax, Jared! I was joking." I closed the space between us and gave him a purely platonic hug to show that I had missed his goofy face as well.

I always found him to be good looking, but not in the I-Wanna-Conceive-Your-Children kind of way. He wasn't wearing a shirt and neither was Embry, which I found to be pretty awkward and weird. Weren't they cold from the ocean breeze? I knew I was.

I pulled away when my hands started to warm up by the contact of his bare skin.

"Paul, get your ass over here and meet my cousins!" Embry called to someone. Hah. Get it?Call. Called. Embry Call.

"Paul?" I repeated in confusion, watching as another big figure in the back stood up and came over to us. I couldn't see him clearly until he stood right next to Jared, only inches away from me.

"Paul, this is Luke and Mariana," Embry introduced.

I looked at the guy, Paul, and his height dwarfed mine and Luke's considerably. I couldn't but feel a little intimidated. My instinct told me to seek refuge closer to my brother. Luke wasn't much of a beekcake as the other boys,but he knew how to hold his own. Many school fights proved that.

"Hi, Paul," I said politely when he just stared at me.

The silence was stiff and he looked at with a very intense glint. His lips were slightly parted, eyes trainex on my face and glowing as though I were someone he'd been waiting for; an answer to his prayers. His breathing became long and ragged. It was the most uncomfortable feeling in my life.

Jared and Embry noticed and their gaze bounced between us, grins slowly stretching on their faces. Well, I'm glad they found it to be so hilarious because I didn't.

"Earth to Paul," Jared said and snapped his fingers in front of Paul's face. It worked because he was ripped from whatever trance that enveloped him and blinked quickly, realizing that everyone was staring at him with wide eyes.

"Uh, hi," was all he said, not once taking his sights off me.

I smiled at him and he smirked back, making him appear ten times more attractive than he already was. Though, he was more handsome than cute, like Sam, their de facto crew leader. Speaking of whom, he was creeping about in the back, close to his girlfriend's side. I noticed him giving Luke a very long, like he was expecting something to happen at any minute. It was weird, but what boy in La Push wasn't weird?

"Sam's gonna gave a field day with this," Jared said to Embry, who grinned, laughing along with him.

I was about to question what they meant, but then I noticed a missing puzzle piece from the picture. "Where's Quil?" I asked, glancing between Embry and Jared. Maybe he was running late.

The boys' expressions fell flat. "He's, uh...he's at home," Embry answered. There was something off about his tone, like he wasn't sure what to say.

My brow crinkled. "Is he sick?"

"Yeah, he's sick," Jared answered quickly and I took his clipped answer as to drop the subject.

"Oh, okay," I muttered, bummed.

"C'mon, Em brought food," Embry told us and led the way to the campfire.

"We already ate," I said.

"Don't listen to her," Luke remarked and moved on ahead of me. I stood behind for a second, oblivious to Paul's colossal figure waiting for me to join in.

"You okay?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

He smirked and held out his ridiculously large hand for me to take. I hesitated at first, gazing down at it like it was a weapon of mass destruction. It was a very couplish gesture, but I didn't want to blow the dude off. I mean, I could be pretty catty but that was just plain mean. So I took his hand and walked with him to the fire.

Truth be told, I was grateful I did because the sand was thicker than I thought and there was many instances of my foot sinking in deep and Paul having to pull me up. I let go of his hand once and went past him once we came beside the fire, taking a seat between Luke and Emily. He looked disappointed but drifted off toward Embry and the others.

Emily smiled when she saw me and gave a big hug. She had been a friend of the family since Luke and I were born, though I hadn't seen her since the fifth grade up until then. It took me half a second to remember her flawed but beautiful face. I remembered hearing the story of what happened reach all the way in Sequim from Aunt Tiffany. We almost came down to see her, but decided against it when the Clearwaters advised it would be safer to stay. The wolf that attacked her was never caught.

"It's been so long, Mar," she beamed and held my hand, cocoa brown eyes illuminating with warmth. "How have you been? Doing well in school?"

I smiled. "I guess so. I'm not flunking anything so far."

"What made you move to La Push?"

"My dad got a position fixing cars and bikes. I guess it was better than what he originally had."

She laughed. "Well, I'm glad you did. It'd be nice to have another female to talk to for a change."

"Where's Leah?" I asked, despite my wishes to never really talk to her again. We just clashed like oil and water. I had at least expected her to be present, though. But she was a no-show.

Emily's smile faded. "She doesn't talk to me anymore. After the whole Sam thing, I think the last she'd want is to be around us."

"I'm sorry, Em. I didn't know."

"It's okay," she replied and squeezed my hand. "I'm just happy you're here."

Regardless of the stress moving and switching schools brought on, I was too. When I got up briefly for a drink, I felt eyes watching me closely, which I figured was Luke checking in. I glanced back at the fire and found his spot empty. Paul had been the one staring at me with the same level of intensity as before. Still gave me a _really_ uncomfortable feeling.

My eyes scanned for Luke, locking onto three figures standing close at the edge of the forests. One of them was massive so I knew that one was Sam. What's Luke doing over there? I wondered, then carelessly shrugged it off. Guess it was a boy thing.

I got my soda, popped the tab open, and returned to the fire. I took my place next to Emily again, and sipped my drink in silence, gazing into the cackling blaze. Quil always loved bonfires and it made me sad to imagine him lying in bed with the flu or something worse while the rest of us were here enjoying ourselves.

"Em, we're out of hotdogs!" Jared cried with disappointment. I swore his stomach was like a bottomless pit.

Emily sighed. "There's more in the green bin - No, the other bin. Ugh, never mind, I'll get it myself." She got up to assist the starving boy, leaving me alone by the fire. Or at least, I thought I was.

Someone shifted on my left and I turned to see Paul making himself comfortable beside me. He was so close our sides almost squished together, and I could feel heat radiate from his body. There was a big ink black tattoo on his left shoulder that I hadn't noticed before. It was round with different looking symbols.

"Did that hurt?" I asked him suddenly, inclining my head to the marking.

He glanced down at it then back at me. "Not really," he said, smirking a bit. "You like it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's cool looking. Can...can I touch it?"

My request seemed to please him because he smirked even wider. "Go ahead." His voice sounded deeper.

Slowly, I ran my fingertips over the surface of his tattoo, feeling his skin scorch all the more by our single act of contact. I let my hand drop when his muscles involuntary flex.

"You mean to tell me getting that huge thing didn't hurt at all?"

Paul shrugged. "Not really. Pain doesn't bother me." Tough guy.

His answer was honest, but I couldn't help but laugh at his proclamation, biting my lower lip so it wouldn't come out semi hysterical. I was pretty sure even Greek Gods felt pain.

Paul glared at me. "Are you laughing at me?" He was very aware, too.

"No, of course not."

"What's so funny then?"

"I just think it's cute when guys try to act tough."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Let's see how tough you are," he said, and held up his hand in tense manner. He wanted me to arm wrestle me. "C'mon. Scared?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not arm wrestling you."

"Why not?"

"Because you can crush me!"

His expression softened the slightest. "No, I won't," he answered lowly. "I won't hurt you."

Something about his eyes were hypnotic and the gentle caramel glaze made me melt around the edges. I was fairly sure he accomplished many things with those orbs of his.

"Okay, okay, you win," I said, setting down my soda then grasped his callosed hand. "If something happens, dress me well for my funeral."

His eyes darkened by that comment, but he curled his fingers against mine, tightly but not painfully. The warmth of his hand was such a pleasant feeling, I was starting to feel a tingle in my stomach, like butterflies or that wave of anxiety you get while sitting in the dentist's office for the first time.

When his hand started gradually pushing against mine, I attempted to return the force, but my tiny weak wrist couldn't compare to his. In a less than a second, my arm was pinned down and he grinned in triumph.

His warm, musky breath blew against my ear. "Still think it's cute?"

"Yeah, I do," I remarked, locking eyes with him and wriggled my hand free from his grip. I leaned down to retrieve my soda can and accidentally nicked my finger on the sharp opening.

My hand jerked back. "Ow," I mumbled and inspected the small cut.

"Are you okay?" Paul immediately asked. He sounded near frantic.

"Yeah, it's only a cut."

He reached for my hand. "Let me see it."

"I'm fine."

"Just let me see it," he grumbled and brought my hand close, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive slice. I winced a little, but said nothing. Truth was, his touch made it feel better. His heat eased the sting.

He looked up at me after, lowering my hand but holding it still, and locked eyes with mine. Oh, no. There it was again. That hypnotic flair.

"What did you do to my sister, lugnut?" Luke's voice bit from afar. He was coming up with Sam and Embry. I had almost forgotten about them.

Paul let go of my hand and glared absolute poison at my brother. "Mind your damn business, Devereux."

"My sister _is_ my business."

"Not anymore," Paul snapped. I blinked in surprise by his rough tone. What happened to the friendly, cocky Paul I was talking to seconds earlier? I felt like I was in the spirit of demonic possession. Not even mood swings like this happened in The Exorcist.

Luke stepped toward us, eyes narrowed dangerously. "What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded. My heartbeat started to beat erratically in my chest and when Paul stood up, I tried holding him back but his strength was just too much.

He towered over Luke. "I think you know what it means." They got in each other's face, shoulders rigid and hands clenched and ready to take the first swing.

"Whoa, easy, guys," Embry said calmly, but looked thoroughly entertained. He glanced between his friends.

"Guys, stop. This is stupid," I told them, rising to my feet. I wasn't going to let then scare me into submission by their superior height. I put my hands on my brother's chest to push him away, but he shook me off easily.

"Stay out of this, Mar."

I thought I heard Paul growl.

"Don't talk to her that way."

Luke cocked his head. "What are you gonna do? You gonna hit me? Do it, Lahote," Luke taunted and held out his arms. "C'mon, bud. I'm right here."

A strong tremble went down Paul's back and it looked like he was trying to keep something at bay, to stop his anger from unleashing. He must've _really_ wanted to pummel Luke. Can't say he didn't have it coming because he did. I mean, my brother could put up a tussle but he was no Mike Tyson.

"Paul," a deep, centered and very wise voice cut through the air. It was none other than Sam. "Not now," was all he said, like a command.

I watched Paul silently and he seemed to relax, though it wasn't much of a significant change. The shaking of his arms and legs ceased but the fire in his eyes continued to burn. Tentatively, I pulled him toward me.

"Relax, Paul. It's fine," I told him. He breathed heavily, keeping his eyes on Luke, but stepped away.

"Now this is a party," Jared joked to lighten the mood, but only recieved a slap on the head from Sam.

Things became quiet after that. Paul took a seat next to me again, but his eyes were still locked in a war with Luke's across the fire. I had never seen anyone look so pissed in my life. When Emily annouced the food was ready, it was like the whole fiasco was forgotten as the boys dug in. Emily was kind enough to put aside a plate for me before the boys devoured it all.

She knew that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. And let me tell you, she cooked up quite the smorgasbord. The hotdogs were bigger than both my legs put together. I had to tear off pieces of bread and meat just to fit it into my mouth. I wasn't even a quarter way done with it when I felt Embry's vulture-like gaze settle upon it.

"You gonna finish that?"

I pondered the thick slab of meat in my hand. "Uh...no. Go ahead, take it." I handed it to him and he happily took it with a grin.

"Cool. Thanks."

I laughed when he stuffed it into his mouth, crumbs flecking the corners of his lips.

A dark hand nudged me and I looked up to see Paul offering me his own. "Here, you can have mine."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

Before Paul could respond, Jared and Embry faked a gasped. "Is this really happening?" Jared deadpanned, jaw hanging open. "Did Paul really just forfeit his food?"

Embry laughed.

"Shut up," Paul threw back, glaring at the two.

"Touchy," Embry murmured, unaffected by his friend's rousing ire. Their banter made me smile and I let out a giggle.

Ten minutes passed when Luke rose from his seat, pulling out the car keys from his pocket. "C'mon, Mar. It's almost midnight. We gotta head out."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," I said as Luke said his goodbyes to the others. I set the paper I had in my hands on the sand, feeling Paul's stare bore into me.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He said.

"We have a car, you know," I said like it was obvious. In which, it was.

"Oh," he mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. God, why was it so attractive when boys did that?

"See you around, I guess," I told him, then brushed past him to Mom and Dad's car, giving Emily a quick hug on the way out.

I ambled over to my fuming brother, taking my sweet time just to sweat him out a bit. By the sour, pinched look on his face, I knew he didn't take my sluggishness too kindly. It made me smile in amusement. The strongest medicine was best served cold.

He got into the driver's seat while I took the passenger side again. I looked out toward the camp fire and saw that Paul was still standing, meeting my gaze levelly from the vast distance. I raised my hand to wave goodbye, but Luke started the engine and sped out of the parking zone faster than necessary.

I glared icily at him once we hit the road back to our house. "That wasn't cool, you know."

His eyebrows shot up like he was innocent. "What?"

"Snapping at Paul like that. You came off as a real jerk."

"Me? You obviously don't know him then."

"Oh, and you do?"

"Better than you. Look, Mar, I've heard things about that guy. He's gotten into countless fights at school-"

"So have you," I cut in.

He gave me the tinest glare, but ignored my comment and went on. _"And_ he's a player. If he gets tired of a girl, he breaks up with them by making out with another right in front of them. He's bad news. Stay away from him."

Who was the dramatic one now? Not me. "People can change," I said.

He snorted. "Don't tell me you like him already."

"Please, I just met him!"

"Good. Keep it that way."

"Yes, _dad,"_ I retorted, earning a dramatic sigh from him, but he didn't bother ranting more about how much of a bad apple Paul apparently was. I didn't want to listen to him talk anyways. His complaints felt like little pins and needles pushing at my temples. I got enough of that from Biology. Except nausea also came with dissecting a frog, shortly followed by breakfast ending up on my shoes.

We drove in silence for the rest of the ride, until we swerved onto our street. Then Luke started to whine about a headache.

"Jesus, my head's killing me," he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

I felt his temple. It was piping hot and clammy. "God, Luke. You're burning up."

"Feels like I am."

"How much did you have to eat?" I asked.

"I don't see how that matters," he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily then opened them again.

"You might've gotten food poisoning."

He didn't say anything to that and just groaned in pain, hands clenching knuckle white on the steering wheel. Luckily, we pulled into our driveway then so if he needed to retch, he wouldn't have to do it all over mom and dad's car. They would've been pissed.

Luke jumped out of the car as soon as it was parked then bolted inside like a madman. I sat in the passenger's seat for a minute, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, then shortly followed him inside. I made sure the car was locked up nice and tight, first. Didn't want to risk leaving it open and having to walk to school the next morning. I wasn't much of the athletic type, unless you counted dancing in the shower.

Mom was sitting at the couch with dad when I came in. "How did it go?" she asked curiously.

I feigned a smile. "Good. It was fun." It wasn't technically a lie. It had been fun, up until Luke's mini bitch fit toward the end. He always had to cop out the parties.

"Where's your brother?"

"In his room. I don't think he feels good. Too many hotdogs, I guess," I told her coolly, heading up the stairs myself. "I'm going to bed, too. Night, mom."

"Goodnight, hon."

I slowly climbed the stairs, pausing at the top when I reached Luke's closed bedroom door. I contemplated knocking and checking in on him, just to see if he needed anything but I knew that would only make him made. Big grumpy boys needed their sleep. With a shake of my head, I turned away and went to my own room. Whatever had caught the better of my brother, it probably wasn't that bad.

I just hoped he was okay.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Is it worth reading more? Let me know** - **Review? :)**

**Over and out~**


	2. Wingman Down

_**Distorted House**_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

** Wingman Down**

* * *

_Featured Song: "Can't Find Entrance" by Those Dancing Days_

**/**

Luke was not okay.

Ever since he barricaded himself in his room the night of the bonfire, he hadn't come out. Which was weird, considering this was our first day of going to the reservation school and he was more stoked about it than I was. Something was seriously twisting his manparts. He wasn't present during breakfast and didn't answer mom's calls when she knocked on his door, baiting with promises of french toast the heartiest dinner that would make Beverly Hills kids jealous. But it didn't work. Silence went on behind his door. No voices. No movement. Nothing.

It worried me. He was my only brother and the realization of him staying behind made me nervous about his deteriorating health. Truth be told, I really didn't want to start my first day alone. I needed my partner in crime, but he was locked up tight, sickly for who knew how long.

"What if he's dead?" I joked with mom at the table, forking a chunk of bread slathered in maple syrup.

Mom glared at me and took a drag from her coffee cup. "You shouldn't say that about your brother, Mariana," she scolded.

The syrup made my lips sticky. "I was only kidding, mom. You know a stomach flu won't bring down Luke. If he can survive pneumonia, he can survive this." Mom's expression sagged by that mention. When Luke was twelve, he sneaked out one night to fool around with his friends after mom forbade him to, in the dead winter.

Naturally, going to the beach without any kind of insulation was a recipe for disaster. It was the sickest he he'd ever been, but he pulled through after countless doctor visits and homemade remedies. He always did.

"Maybe you'll have a better chance of waking him up," Mom said after a moment, then stood up and began to prepare him a plate. "Take this to him would you, hon?"

I sighed and got up, tossing my napkin next to my plate. "Okay, but I doubt I'll have much luck."

I grabbed the dish and crept upstairs to big brother's room. I rapped on his door softly. "Luke? It's me. I brought you some food." No response. "Luke?" No reply. I knocked again, but was met with the same outcome.

Was he having a super quiet happy time with himself or something? Or maybe he snuck out? But that seemed so unlike him. People could change over night, I guess. Balancing the plate on one hand, I slowly turned the knob so it wouldn't creak pushed it open. The sight of his room left me shocked. I wasn't graced with the view of porn magazines or his rotting corpse, but his very much alive body lying in bed, fast asleep.

His shirt was off, but still wore the same shorts from the previous night. He wasn't even snoring.

I tiptoed over to him. "Luke?" I whispered. He didn't move, just quietly slept, arms hanging on each side of the bed. I poked his bare back with my finger. His skin was excruciatingly hot and clammy. "Luke?"

Still, nothing. With a sigh, I set down the plate on his nightstand and made a face at the piles of clothes thrown around the floor. What a pig. We hadn't been in La Push for a week and now his room liked like it had been burglarized.

"Slob," I muttered under my breath, then turned to leave. Didn't want to disturb his manly rest. I shut the door and skipped back downstairs. Mom was waiting in the kitchen.

"Well, he's still out," I told her. She frowned. "Don't worry, mom. He'll be up and at'em once I get home from school." Probably.

That made her smile, at least. "I know, hon. Now you go on to school. I don't want you to be late."

I ran upstairs to get my backpack from my closet. It was old, the straps fraying and color slightly stripping from the surface. It was actually Luke's middle school bag, passed down to me once he deemed himself to cool for a plain blue Jansport model. I would've liked a new one myself, but I didn't complain. The color was decent, though fading. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

I slung it over my shoulder as I bounded downstairs and out the door. Given that La Push wasn't very big, a lot of kids walked to school. I saw a few students my age on the route there and I figured some of them were my classmates. Being new to the herd, some gave me a funny look, as if trying to decipher who I was. It was kind of intimidating. I felt awkward and unarmed without any loyal older brother at my side, ready to have a go in my defense.

What good was duel pistols when one of then was missing? Sure, you could still shoot the other one, but it wasn't the same. Well, there was always Embry and Jared. They had to be there. I mean, why wouldn't they? Unless they somehow caught whatever Luke had. I hoped that wasn't the case. Then I'd be all alone.

By the time the school parking lot came into view, the heels of my feet were throbbing and slightly damp from trekking through wet leaves and small puddles. I figured it was going to be a particular gloomy morning, but I wanted to look nice and presentable on the first day and my dingy old Sketchers did not inhabit those qualities. They might have cool when I was nine, but wearing them now was the equivalent of listening to Kidz Bop on a walkman disk player.

The piece of paper with my schedule on it and map of the school was tucked in my jean pocket, folded messily, so I smoothed out the crinkles and figured out where my locker would be and which class was first. My concentration was so buried in it, I barely realized I was walking around aimlessly without looking where I was going. I nearly bumped into someone's shoulder, but caught sight of their shoe just in time and swerved to the left, which almost made me smack face first into the wall.

I ended up slipping on something wet and nearly took a nasty spill, but a large dark hand caught my flailing hand and kept me on my feet. It was some guy I hadn't met before, ridiculously tall, as most Quileute boys were, and had a very grown up face, like Sam. His hair draped past his shoulders, tied neatly back, and shined like silk. He must've used Pantene Pro V. No one achieved that kind of results using basic off brand.

I stammered out a thank you for his assistance. "Thanks...whatever your name is."

He grinned. "Jacob," he said. "Call me Jake." I smiled as he commented on how much my clumsy footing reminded him of someone, which he barely really had a real thing for.

What a nice lad.

When he walked away, people were staring and a few laughed at my lack of equilibrium, but I just fixed my hair, straightened my blouse and went about my merry way. If Luke was there, he'd probably flip them the bird, tell them to visit that hot and scary underground world, then take the lead. He wasn't the type that felt shame to be hanging around his little sister, let alone just be seen with her, and that's what I appreciated most about him. He was there for me, when I wasn't there for myself. I guess that went to show much I relied on him, especially in moments of vulnerability. When my walls came crashing down, he knew to keep his up. If only that trait was passed on to me...

I definitely got jipped on the good genes card trading.

When I found my locker, I put in all my books and kept a couple in my arms for my first round of classes. Dreaded math was first on the list. Why not start the day with a little mental exhaustion? As if my life didn't supply enough of that.

"Mariana," a deep, familiar voice said, sounding happy to see me. I perked up, faces shifting before my eyes until it landed on the one the voice belonged to.

Paul Lahote.

My misery meter went down a few levels, a genuine smile spreading on my face. "Hey, Paul." Seeing him up close again reminded me how huge he actually was. He could probably pick me up with one hand and toss me around like a yesterday's salad.

"How's your cut?" He asked seriously and glanced at my hand.

"My cut?" I said, confused, and felt my skin tingle when he took my hand and gently traced the tiny slit on my forefinger I received from the soda can. Was he still worried about that? "Oh," I muttered, realizing what he meant. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Good," he said, sounding relieved, and stroked it once before letting go. "What's your first class?"

"Algebra," I responded half heartily.

He grinned at that, making my heartbeat sputter. "Well, what do you know? Mine too."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion when I saw that he wasn't carrying a backpack, much less a single book. I was far from a model student, but I knew for sure that wasn't school ready attire.

I broke eye contact by the intensity of his stare. "Well, see you there, I guess." I closed my locker, and turned to leave, brushing past other students heading in the same direction.

Paul was at my side instantly. "Might as well walk together," he said casually, matching my pace. I was a little surprised by his eagerness to tag along, but didn't question it. There was nothing really wrong with it, anyways. Friends walked to class together. It was normal. Unless the other had unwanted intentions...

"So what's the deal with you and my brother?" I asked out of the blue.

"What deal?"

"You two practically killed each other last night."

He shrugged, but a smirk played across his lips. "Guess he just doesn't like me."

"Yeah, he told me you're quite the brawler."

That stupid smirk widened. "Did he?" He said and I nodded, watching him carefully. "I've won a few fights."

"How many is a few?" I questioned.

"Plenty to earn a reputation."

I rolled my eyes. Bad boy alert.

He noticed my reluctance to believe him, and stopped in his tracks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I stiffened, my side pressing to his warm body and looked up at him in bewilderment, but he was gesturing toward another boy in a classroom opposite of us. He was relatively muscular, medium height, and a bad scar tainted his left eye, making it sag just a little.

"See him?" Paul said. "I gave him a black eye in eighth grade."

"Over what?" I answered, studying the boy through the window. Paul's arm felt heavy wrapped around my lithe frame, like sacks of bricks.

"He threw my phone in the lake."

Not too impressive. "That's it?"

"I also broke his nose with a rock."

That, on the other hand, was. Also with a dose of frightening."That's terrible!" I exclaimed, glancing back up at him with alarm.

"He's lucky that's the only thing I broke," he said and left his arm fall, walking with me once more.

"Don't you feel bad?" I replied.

He shrugged, biceps flexing slightly. "He had it coming."

"You're awful," I remarked with a smile, and he chuckled, deep and masculine and all sorts of attractive. It made my stomach ache, but not painfully. It was that feeling you got as a child waking up on the morning of your birthday. Butterflies.

Was I actually feeling butterflies for a guy I just met? No, focus, Mariana.

He stared at my face after I giggled, a look of peace settling over his handsome features, and I couldn't help but wonder why he was so intent on being friends with me. We only met the night before yet he was staying close to me like a shirt fresh from the dryer. His company did prove to be nice so far, but first impressions were easily fooled. For all I knew he could've been a total grade A John Tucker type douchebag. He definitely had the physique and cocky grin to go along with it.

I walked into math class with him bringing up the rear. Every seat was almost full except for two empty ones in the second row and one in the very back. I chose the closer seat and set my things down, hearing the available chair on my right screech as someone pulled it away. Glancing, I saw that it was Paul, staking his claim. He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes, sitting down and making myself comfortable. I took out my book and notepad, wishing that I swiped a bottle from mom's liquor cabinet before leaving that morning. I was going to need a sip of the Schnapps to deal with AP Algebra.

"Hey, uh...that's my seat," a shorter, less bulky boy said to Paul, ambling up to his stolen desk. He looked so scared, as if he were confronting death itself.

Paul looked at him with hard eyes. "Yeah, and now it's not."

"But-" The kid was about to protest, but was cut off by Paul's growl. His eyes widened in fear then scampered off toward the back of class. I watched as the boy ran off in terror, then looked back at Paul, who was grinning at me, as if everything was right as rain.

I turned slowly back to the chalkboard, shaking my head at his bizarre behavior then took out my pencil. All that time, I could feel his eyes on me, watching, but not in a creepy I-Know-What-You-Did-Last-Summer way. It felt kind of protective, like he was my body guard. It was kind of nice, with my brother being down for the count and all. Maybe hanging around him wouldn't be such a pain after all.

Maybe.

0000

I was going to flunk Sophomore year.

I really was. Everything taught in Alebra flew right over my head, and no matter how quickly I scribbled in my notebook, I just couldn't seem to keep up with the rest of class. Nothing I wrote down made a lick of sense and left me with a splitting headache. Paul's gaze still bore hotly at my back, which didn't help at all. It was too much for my unprepared, stressed brain. All I wanted to do was go home and nap for about thirty years. Somehow, Luke always ended getting the better side of the coin and he was couped up at home, probably puking gallons.

So much for a great first day, huh?

I sighed with relief when the bell rang and jumper from my seat to collect my books. Glancing over at Paul, I saw that there was a small group of girls gathered around him, giggling and smiling and trying to bat their eyelashes sexually, but it just looked like they had a nervous tick. Amateurs. I ignored it and walked out without another thought. By the time I went back to my locker, my fingers were red and sore from clutching pencil so tightly. There was a fountain close by so I ran my fingers under the cold, soothing waterfall and took a drink after.

"Mariana," Paul's voice rang, footsteps pounded closer. "Why did you leave?" He demanded, appearing angry. His rough tone caught me off guard.

I pushed the back of my hand across my mouth, wiping my damp lips. "Because class ended?" I said sarcastically. "Plus you looked pretty busy with those girls."

My expression must have been sour because he smirked then. "Jealous?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of them? Yeah, right."

"You shouldn't be anyways. They're nothing compared to-" He paused.

"Compared to who?" I pressed.

He ran a hand through his hair, purposely avoiding eye contact. Weird. Usually I was the one that did that. "Uh, nothing. Nevermind."

"You're a real mystery, you know that right?" I said.

That loveable, yet annoying smirk reappeared. "I know."

I shook my head, laughing a little, and made off for my next class, hearing him follow at my heels. A part of me didn't want to separate from his presence just yet, but I didn't know how much doses of him I could take on a single school day. He seemed like the type that needed to be taken in moderation.

"Can I show you something?" He asked behind me.

I froze. "What is it?"

He came around to my side. "You trust me, right?" He asked me, eyes very focused and intent on my answer.

I looked at him warily. "You didn't answer my question."

"Neither did you."

I knew I had to be honest with him. "Honestly? I don't know."

He frowned, unsatisfied. "You know I wouldn't hurt you."

But did I really know that? Because I wasn't so sure. A boy that broke noses and gave black eyes as presents didn't seem so trustworthy. Still, I nodded and looked at my feet. "Sure, I know," I brushed it off.

He held out his hand. "Come on. I promise you'll be safe." I stared at it, but made no move to link mine with his. "What? You can hold Jake's hand, but you can't hold mine?" He spat.

Jake? I thought, confused, and the memory of the tall boy with shiny hair helping me up earlier came flooding back. "Is he your friend?" I said.

"Not really."

"Oh," I muttered, awkwardness coming between us quicker than I thought. "So...what did you want to show me?"

He smirked. "Come here."

I followed him toward the boiler room, which had an old hatch leading to the roof. He let me go up first, holding the door open for me and holding the rail just in case it became too rickety. It was so windy, my hair swirling around me, and getting stuck on the nook of my earrings. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end by the chill and I crossed my arms briskly, ambling toward the edge of the building. When I hit the brick ledge, the spectacular view made me pause, sucking in a helpful of breath and letting it out in an icy blow. It was amazing. You could see the tops of the trees and just beyond, the outline of First Beach, crashing waves, bouldering rocks and everything.

"Wow," I breathed, taking it all in.

"You like it?" Paul piped in from beside me.

"It's beautiful," I told him.

"Yeah...it is," he said lowly, and when I turned to look at him, he was already staring at me, but turned away just as swiftly, gazing at the sights.

"Why did you bring me up here?" I inquired after a minute of silence.

"I thought you'd like it," he explained. "I like coming here when I need some air."

"You mean cutting class?" I jested.

He grinned. "Maybe." We sat down on the ledge, swinging our legs over the brim, and I would've been terrified if it hadn't been for Paul gently bracing his arm at my back so I wouldn't fall.

"Can't we get in trouble for this?" I asked, whispering just in case there was school faculty down below.

"Probably," he said, shrugging. "But I don't care." Of course he didn't.

We sat like that for a while, just me and him, watching the sky lighten and the clouds separate. Moments like that were nice and I really needed more of them in my life. Who knew I'd be spending quality time with Paul Lahote, of all people? The town's face sculptor. He was bad news, there was no lie about that. My brother had been right, no matter how much I hated to admit it. If he were there, he would've done a victory dance and rubbed it in my face like the jerk he could be. Him and Paul had more in common that they thought.

After about twenty minutes, the pocket of Paul's cut offs buzzed twice. It was his phone and he fished it out before it could ring again, bringing it up to his ear. "Sam?" He answered roughly. A voice spoke on the other end, but I didn't hear it. "Yeah, fine," he said after a second, sounding angry then shoved the phone back into his pocket.

"Bad news?" I guessed.

When he turned to me, he looked a little remorseful, reluctant. "I need to go."

"Oh," I mumbled with a pang of disappointment. "I understand." He stood up and walked me back to the hatch.

"Be careful when you walk home today, okay?" He said very gravely.

I nodded. "I will. See you around?"

He smirked and winked. "Guess you will."

I giggled and skipped down the stairs, expecting to hear his footsteps thudding after me, but there was only quietness. Curiously, I crept back up to see if he was still there, but the roof was empty, as if no had ever been there. Weird. Where did he go? I thought and peered over the ledge, but saw no trace that he'd jumped over. Why would he when he could've just used the stairs? The teen spirit did crazy things sometimes. Maybe he actively practiced Parkour.

Ignoring the slithering feeling, I returned to the halls before anyone could realize I was gone and mark me for tardiness.

Due to my shameless class skipping adventure, the next subject on my list was English. I was fairly good in that criteria so I didn't have much worries there. Unless I got stuck with typing up with a term paper. If I needed Schnapps for Algebra, I was going to need a couple pops of Vicodin for that. But I managed to get through it without a single headache, which was a new personal record. Luke had a lot to catch up on, if he planned on upstaging me, wherever he'd come back.

_If he comes back_, a voice whispered in my head and I tried kicking it away. No...no, Luke was going to be fine. Just fine.

_Right?_

It was a lonely road to my locker during the final period. Seeing every student with their group of friends made me miss my brother, Embry and Jared all the more. It made me wonder why they were absent. Maybe they pulled the fire alarm and got suspended? I wouldn't put it below them. Just like Luke, trouble followed wherever they went. When we were younger, big brother had a habit of placing fake spiders all over my room and shower so when I went in, I would get a terrifying surprise. Back then, the most our parents could do was take away his Nintendo and call it a night, but it never worked. He always kept a Gameboy stashed under his pillow anyways for emergencies.

It was never fair to me, so of course you know that meant war. I ended up taking every precaution I could to get him back. At the end of most days, the house would be in complete chaos. Even after countless bouts of punishments from our parents, we still found a way to prank each other. I guess vengeance ran in the Devereux blood. When you had a brother like mine, you couldn't help but take out your armor and shield whenever you could.

I was grateful that my locker wasn't parked next to a high trafficked spot. The last thing I needed was other girls giving me the evil eye and gossiping about whether or not they could trust me around their boyfriends. A couple gave me the cold shoulder during lunch, but it wasn't anything I hadn't dealt with before. In a bizarre way, it made me feel sort of welcome. It was the same kind of reception I received in my old school. No matter where you relocate, the drama was a guarantee to stay the same. Nice to know some things never change.

I punched in locker combination and switched out some of my things. My last couple of classes were next and pinning down the rest of my classes were going to be a sham, but I figured it would be best to get my books ready now so I wouldn't be late or get lost trying to find my way then stumble around like an idiot. Just as I closed my locker, a familiar voice called out to me near the boys' bathroom.

"Mariana?"

Quil.

I spun around.

_Quil._

I couldn't believe that I actually forgot he went there, too. He'd always been nice to me whenever I hung out with him and his boys. Sometimes he defended me when Embry and Jared's jokes hit a little too close to home or held me back when I tried whacking one of them. He was very much like another brother. Ah, those were the days.

"Quil!" I exclaimed, and jogged toward him, my spirit instantly lifted.

His lean arms enveloped me in a warm hug. "I haven't seen you forever, Mar," he chuckled in my ear.

I laughed along with him as he let go. I really did miss this dude. I guess he got over whatever illness he had with ease. "I see you're feeling better," I said.

"Better?" Quil echoed, confused.

"Yeah, weren't you sick?" I asked.

"No," he answered guardedly. "Who told you that?"

"Embry and Jared."

Quil's features hardened. "Figures," he muttered and rubbed the back of his head.

"Is there something up between you guys?"

"Yeah, the fact that they act like I don't exist." Hurt was evident in his voice.

"Why would they? They're your friends."

He sighed. "That's what I thought too."

My lips twitched into a frown. "I don't under-" I was going to say, but his gaze settled on something - someone - over my shoulder and his eyes widened the slightest.

"Shit," he whispered, panicky. "What's he doing here?"

I raised my eyebrows. "What? Who are you taking about?" I glanced behind me then and my stomach dropped. Standing there, looking royally pissed, was Paul Lahote. Both of his hands were clenched and he was glaring absolute fire at Quil. I didn't understand. What was he still doing there? He told me he had to leave. Why did he come back? And why was there so much animosity between them?

I turned back to Quil, but he was already backing up. "Look, Mar, I...uh, I have to go. I'll see you later," he said and with that, disappeared through the sea of student bodies. It left me scratching my head in complete disarray. Had I had fallen into the world of West Side Story? Big, cute fighting boys everywhere minus the singing and dancing.

"Mariana," a deeper voice bit, coming closer and it didn't sound exactly happy. It was Paul, storming toward me, still just as furious and I didn't know why.

"Oh, hi, Paul," I greeted, a little unnerved by his livid expression, but I tried to hide it. "What's up? I thought you left-"

"Why was he talking to you?" He demanded, staring in the direction that Quil ran off. "What did he say to you?"

I was taken aback. "Uh, nothing. He didn't tell me anything."

He looked deep into my eyes then, probably rooting for any source of lies. "He shouldn't be talking to you."

"Why not?"

Conflict briefly flickered in his brown eyes. "Forget it," he grumbled, and brushed past me, almost making me trip against the lockers.

I whirled around as his footsteps pounded down the hall. "Paul, wait!" I bellowed, but he ignored it and stalked out of sight.

Shaking my head, I stared at the floor for a while, processing what just happened. On days like these, I needed my brother the most, but he was tucked away in bed like a toddler. If he were there with me, he probably would've acted like the referee or at least given me some input on what went on in a boy's mind. A part of being a girl was knowing no way to deal with them, especially when they're mad.

And Paul, well, it seemed like he got mad a lot.

If that were the case, it was time for me to hop in my boat and row away from the Titanic.

0000

I had never felt so tired in my life.

The amount of books I was carrying in my backpack was enough to snap my shoulders in two. Geometry, Algebra, English Litature, Biology, and AP US History seemed like too much to cram into one tiny brain. I kept dozing in and out of sleep during Biology, my head almost smacked straight into the desk. I guess it would've helped if I had gotten plenty of rest the night before, but my mind was so worked up over Luke's strange behavior.

"I'm home!" I announced happily, hauling myself bag on the kitchen counter. That sad, pathetic excuse for a school lunch did nothing to sate my appetite. I was pretty sure those chicken strips were not real meat and the vegetables came from a can. Whoever "cooked" it should have been sued.

I raided the fridge, stacking an orange juice carton, pudding cup, and box of leftover pizza in my arms. The meer smell of it nearly had me salivating at the mouth. I put it all on the counter and started fixing myself a bit of everything, then I heard my mom from upstairs. She sounded distressed.

"Mariana!" She called frantically from Luke's bedroom door. My heartbeat skidded and without questioning her, I dropped the glass in my head, shattering it on the floor, then sprinted up there. A terrible knot twisted in my stomach by the tone of her voice. Something was wrong.

Something was _very_ wrong.

"What is it, mom?" I asked, out of breath and leaned slightly against the wall. It still reeked from fresh paint.

She didn't say anything and just stated in astonishment at Luke's room. His door was hanging ajar, carpet just as messy and disorganized as before, and his window left wide open, but he was nowhere in sight.

He was gone.

* * *

**A/N: So what did you think? Leave me a review? :)**

**More Paul in the next chapter!**

**Thanks for reading! Sorry if there's any typos.  
**


End file.
